Who let the dogs out!
by ThePinkMoonPlatoon
Summary: Drabble collection! Henry Knight moves to London after 'The Hounds of Baskerville", and after a shameless 'not-date' things get fluffy. Because I have not seen any Henry stories, guys! John Watson/Henry Knight, slash and fluff! Please read and review! WIP
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"So what do you think you're going to do now? Move away?"

"Dartmoor has too many bad memories for me to stay. I might come back from time to time, but I think a move to the city is best."

"Think you'll come to London, then?"

"Maybe, I have a few friends who live there; I might be able to stay with them until I get a place..."

"Well, price won't be a problem for you! Here," he takes out a small slip of paper and jots down his number, "That's my mobile; you've got Sherlock's. Feel free to stop by anytime, Henry!"

"Thank you, John, so much. For everything." He smiled gratefully.

"It's no problem, it's what we do!"

He chuckles softly, "Sherlock's a very lucky man-"

"Ha! No, no, we're not together!"

"_Really_?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes! Everyone is so convinced I'm gay, even I'm- Well, we're just mates."

Henry smiles, the first happy one since they met, "Well, good luck, John! And thank you, again."

They hug, tight and comforting, and then John parts, ready to go back home.

**Just a short intro, the rest will come shortly! I need more Henry fics!**

**Read and review please!  
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	2. Incoming Call

_**A few months later**_

_*Incoming call – Unknown number*_

John answered his phone hesitantly, rattling off a list of people who could be on the other end. The only people who had this number were his ex-girlfriends, but he's sure he kept all of their numbers. What about that therapist he met in Dartmoor...

"Hello, John Watson?" it was distinctively a man's voice, but still a little high, rather posh too.

"Mr Knight? Is that you?" John asked with almost certainty.

"Ah, Henry, please."

"Right, Henry. Is there something wrong?" he was quite worried, after all, he was subject to a mental experiment all of his life and it could always have unexpected side effects. Maybe he needed help?

"Oh, no everything is fine; peachy really. I've got a little place near Knightsbridge... I was just wondering if you'd like to go out for a drink. With me. I can understand if you don't, with Sherlock being Sherlock and- yeah." He sounded quite flustered.

Oh, well that was a surprise! Sherlock was currently sulking for one reason or another and was being completely insufferable, the bastard. And John had enjoyed Henry's company when he was in Dartmoor; he'd been nothing but friendly despite the mental trauma he'd gone through. What harm could a drink do? Well, if it was with Sherlock then it stood the chance of being poisoned but that's another story...

"Ok then. I can make seven, know any good pubs?"

"You will?" his voice squeaked a little, but then he coughed and it went back to normal, this time the smile could be heard down the phone, " Seven is good. I was hoping you, as a London resident for however long, would be able to tell me a good place for a drink!"

John chuckled, "Then you hope correctly. How about the Archer? It is a few streets from Baker Street...I could meet you here and walk down, if that's not too much trouble?"

"Sounds good. Great. I'll be there at seven, then. Good. Well, goodbye John."

"See you later, Henry!"

*_Call ended*_

John checked the time, and upon seeing it was five already he went to get a shower to get ready for the date. Wait, no, he didn't mean that!

The not-date. Yes that's what it was. Good.

**This is kind of drabbe-y isn't it? Well, it's going to be fluff soooooonnn!**

**Read and review please!**


	3. Sherlock, shut up

"Who was that?" Sherlock called very the sofa he was sulking on.

"You know exactly who it was. I said his name a few times." John teased, "Plus you could probably deduce it from the way I stood or something."

"Henry Knight, old client, 30 years old, traumatised, gay but trying to hide it-"

"Wait, what? Gay?"

"Yes John, it's when a member of the same se-"

"Shut up, Sherlock. How do you know he's gay?"

"Well, there's the very suggestive fact he just asked you out on a date..."

John scoffed, "It's not a date! We're going for a drink!"

"A 'drink' where two people will-"

"Sherlock, shut up, please."

"What? It's what you described a date as!"

"No, Sherlock, it's not. It's a casual drink between me and Henry."

Sherlock merely scoffed and raised his eyebrows, but John pointedly ignored him in favour of making a cup of tea.

It was silent for a little while, until Sherlock propelled himself into the kitchen, "When is your date then?"

"Not date."

He sighed, "When is your not-date then?"

John rolled his eyes, "Seven, at the Archers. He's meeting me here and then we're walking along."

"Well, that gives you..." he checked his watch, "...half an hour to spare."

"What do you want, Sherlock? I'm not taking part in another experiment!"

"But you have plenty of time!" Sherlock whined.

"I said no, Sherlock!"

"Please?" he put on his best puppy dog face.

John rolled his eyes and shook his head, "No."

"Ugh, fine!" Sherlock huffed.

Again, a silence settled until Sherlock disturbed it.

"If it's not a date then why are you wearing your best shirt?"

**Yeah. This is going somewhere by the way. It's just a little slow...:P**

**Read and review please!  
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	4. I'm not gay!

It was exactly seven o'clock when Henry Knight arrived at 221B Baker Street. Unlike the last time he came here, he rang the bell firmly and three times.

"Ah, there's your date John." Sherlock drawled from the sofa.

"He's not my- why does everyone think I'm gay!"

"I don't think you're gay. I know Henry is and I know he wants a date with you."

"Oh, right."

"Also, you're not exclusively gay or straight. You're attracted to various different people. I've seen the way you look at Lestrade sometimes..."

"That's because he's h- no. I'm not attracted to him. I'm not gay!" John called as he left to answer the door to his d- to Henry.

"ARGH! Do you not listen, John! I never said you were! I said you we-"

"Shut up Sherlock!" John yelled up as he answered the door, "Hi."

"Hello" Henry had a huge smile plastered on his face, although he looked a little shy.

"Do you want to come in? I need to get a few things and make sure Sherlock doesn't burn the house down while I'm out."

"And does he burn the flat down a lot?"

John laughed, "Well, we've had a lot of kitchen fires and somehow one in my bedroom..."

"Really? Well, at least it's not boring!"

"That's the same thing I said to his brother." John laughed again, "Oh, erm, come on up then!"

Henry shuffled up the stairs after John. The last time he'd been here he was being haunted by that hound. John nodded Henry to sit while he bounded off to his own room to get his coat and wallet.

Taking a seat in John's usual chair, he smiled across to the brooding Sherlock, "Hello again, Mr Holmes."

Sherlock almost shuddered, "Sherlock. Mr Holmes just makes me sound like my brother."

"Oh, well, hello again, Sherlock." He hesitated for a few moments, "Thank you, by the way, for solving my case."

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but John interrupted as he descended the stairs, "Ready to go, Henry?"

Henry got up, following John to the door, but not able to leave before they heard Sherlock smirking, "Have fun on your _date, _John."

Blushing beautifully from head to toe, John cast a death glare across to Sherlock, who only smiled widely in return. Henry dithered about for a bit, unsure what to say or do, but he ended up just going down to the front door.

Before John left the room, he mouthed "_I will kill you!" _across to Sherlock, who only smiled brighter, holding in a laugh.

**Despite this being a John/Henry fic, I'm subconciously writing John/Sherlock subtext. Let's just say they're heterosexual life partners. And John/Henry is also a relationship.**

**Review? Please!**


	5. The not date

They got to the Archer after a 10 minute walk, mostly in silence, although it was a comfortable one. Henry was mulling over Sherlock's parting words; how had he known he wanted a date? Oh, wait, it's Sherlock we're talking about here, of course he knew.

John, too, was mulling over a similar thing. He wasn't gay! He couldn't be! He liked women, and their curves and breasts and soft lips. He didn't look at Lestrade like _that. _No-one could deny the man was hot, and that arse- Oh shit. No. He can't be having a sexual crisis at age 37! No, he just thought it was a nice arse, it didn't mean he was gay... But what about what Sherlock had said; he didn't have to be either really...?

Both men were brought out of their thoughts as they came to the pub and stepped inside, Henry holding open the door for the army doctor.

They slid into a booth, shielded from most of the bar by a joining wall. Two pints were quickly ordered and soon the two men were settled and chatting avidly.

"I've read that blog of yours, John. 'The Hounds of Baskerville', nice name for the case." He commented, sipping his pint.

"Oh, yes. Sherlock isn't really appreciative of the names. You should see how he reacted to 'The Speckled Blonde'!"

Henry smiled a little sadly at the mention of Sherlock, especially when John talked about him with a huge fondness in his voice.

He cleared his throat a little, "So, you and Sherlock..."

The question did not need to be finished.

John put down his pint, and shifted his arms a bit, "Look, me and Sherlock are not together. We will not ever be together. If there was a name for what me and Sherlock are it's... my sister Harry calls us heterosexual life partners."

"Heterosexual life partners?" Henry asked, with a raised brow, "That doesn't make it sound any different!" he chuckled.

"Best friends? That's too... not enough really. Oh god, I have no idea what we are. Erm, I guess brothers? I love him like a brother. Yes!"

"Having a little revelation there, are we?" Henry laughed, "I suppose brothers could be very descriptive, but from what I've heard not Sherlock's idea of a brother."

"Oh god, not Mycroft!" John smirked, "I like the guy, but why with the kidnapping! And, knowing him, he's listening in on our conversation, so be careful what you say!"

Henry looked a little peaky, "Kidnapping...?"

"Oh, don't worry! It was in his protective brotherly way. He offered me money to spy on Sherlock for him. I didn't take it."

He still looked a little off, but Henry decided to let it go. The conversation shifted a little, until several pints later, a silence enveloped them.

Henry coughed a little, and asked sheepishly, "So, you say you're not with Sherlock, but are you- erm, no that's not a polite question to ask!"

"Am I gay?" John chuckled, "Well, believe me, I've had more people just assume it than just plain asking me!"

"So... are you?"

He sighed, ready to spill the beans now that he was on his fourth pint, "No. Not- well. It's not as simple as that." He laughed, short and breathy, "The thing is, I was convinced I was completely straight until today! And then Sherlock said something to me today... and I just realised that men and women turn me on. So, now I'm a 37 year old having a sexual crisis!"

"Oh, I know how you feel," Henry started, also suitably drunk, "I didn't realise I was gay until a few years ago, and no-one else knows. It makes relationships a bit tricky."

It was a pensive silence while they finished their fourth pint apiece.

"Sherlock reckons this is a date." John said after a while.

Henry choked on his pint, and blushed rapidly, "Well, it was a drink. But if- if you want it to be a date...?"

"Oh, god yes!"

**This chapter is a bit shaky, sorry. I personally think it's moving too fast for them (what the hell am I, relationship guru!) but they are drunk. I plan on getting them pissed soon and maybe one thing will lead to another...:P**


	6. That night

_That night was certainly... eventful._

John awoke to sunlight streaming in through the window, a warm presence at his side. The duvet was pooled around his waist, joined by a slightly freckled arm that was slung loosely over him. He could feel a long, thin leg looped around his own, and his own hand was curled onto a naked, speckled chest. What the hell...?

And suddenly it all clicked.

"Oh." John said stupidly (he was tired... and sore...).

A soft yawn came from the man next to him, who seized up as he realised someone was with him. His eyes still hadn't opened, but he inhaled deeply and slowly blinked down to the man sprawled on his chest.

"Oh." Henry breathed, still frozen to the spot.

John smiled hesitantly, "Hello."

Henry breathed out again, and relaxed a little, 'Erm, hello yourself."

They shuffled up so they were sitting against the headboard, both becoming increasingly aware of how sore they were, but how _good _the soreness was.

The silence was rather awkward, naturally.

"So," Henry said after a while, "I presume this is your room and we haven't just broken into some random house...?"

John frowned, looking around, "I thought it was yours. I don't have a double bed... and my-"

He suddenly stopped looking shocked.

"Oh shit. OH SHIT!" he suddenly exclaimed, jumping out of the bed and pulling on a stray pair of boxers. He didn't notice they weren't his until too late.

Henry sat up ramrod straight and looked stricken, "What? _Is _this some stranger's house?"

John looked to him, utter seriousness on his face, "It's worse than that... it's Sherlock's room."

**Short chapter! More to come soon!**

**Let's just say Sherlock is going to be a smug bastard...  
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	7. Sherlock, get lost!

"S-Sherlock's room... why...what!" Henry squeaked, jumping out of the bed.

John blushed beautifully from head to toe, and turned away, but his eyes still stayed on the other man, eyebrows raised appreciatively.

Henry was confused at first but then he realised it; he was completely and utterly naked, "Oh shit! Sorry!" he scrambled for some clothes and threw on John's jeans from the day before; they fit surprisingly snugly, even if they were a bit short on him.

"No, no it's fine! I'm just-" he chuckled, "I'm not quite used to naked men yet... despite what we obviously did last night..."

It was Henry's turn to blush this time, "Oh... right." He coughed to drop his voice lower, "And- are you ok? With everything we...did?

John looked pensive, if only for a second, "I can gladly say I'm fine with all of it. Are you?" And he tossed Henry a winning smile, which the man dutifully returned.

"I suppose I am. Most definitely." There was a pause, "So what do we do now?"

"Well, I suppose we should vacate Sherlock's room and go get a shower or something. And then, hopefully soon, you can take me on a date again..."

Henry nodded, unsure what to say despite his brain screaming, _'Yes! YES! Take him on another date right now!'_, and picked up his discarded clothes. John did the same, and he showed Henry to his own room, managing to avoid Sherlock for now.

John pointed to the little bathroom, "The shower is just through there, feel free to use any of the stuff...oh, but watch out for the medicine cabinet; who knows what Sherlock has stored in there!"

Henry nodded, and caught the soft, fluffy towel that John threw his way.

"I'll be back soon, I'm just going to... tidy up Sherlock's room..." John smiled a little shyly and backed out of the room.

He breathed out a sigh as he heard the shower start, and a low hum drift through to him. He sings in the shower! John felt warmth spread in his stomach. He padded over to Sherlock's room and swung open the door, only to reveal a slightly miffed, but still smug, Sherlock in the doorway.

"Why, hello John." He drawled, "Have a nice _not-date_?"

John blushed slightly, "Fuck off, Sherlock."

"Hmm, why you had to choose _my _room is beyond me," he continued, ignoring John's input, "you were in close proximity the whole night, and would have fit easily in your single bed."

Running a hand through his hair, John pushed passed Sherlock and gathered up the dirty sheets, "Go away, Sherlock." He paused, "Wait, and where were you for this entire episode?"

Sherlock huffed a laugh, "I was on the sofa when you came in, tripping over everything. I'm surprised you managed to even get his p-"

"Thanks for that, Sherlock. I mean where did you sleep?"

"I didn't."

"Sherlock, you know you have to sleep!"

"Well, I know for a fact you barely did! I'm surprised you went for that-"

He stopped after he saw John's shut-up-or-I'll-kill-you face, "I went out."

John sighed and rolled his eyes, carrying the sheets out of the room, "You can't just go and run about the streets at night, Sherlock!"

"I didn't get to," he said morosely, as he followed John, "Mycroft picked me up. He was convinced I was having a 'danger night'. Idiot."

Dropping the sheets into the dirty wash basket, John rolled his eyes once more and made his way across the sitting room.

A rueful knock came from the direction of John's room, and Henry's speckled torso leaned out of the doorway.

"Erm, sorry to bother you two... erm, John can I borrow some- only you've got mine on..." he gestured to John's lower half.

"Oh! Oh, yes, right. I'll get some for you," John said immediately marching across the room to Henry.

Henry was just about to turn back into the room, but he suddenly heard Sherlock speak, "Why, hello Henry! Did you have a nice evening? And night, and the morning by the looks of things, dear me."


	8. The best goodbye

**I have an idea for the next chapter that actually has to do with the title, so, YAY for that!**

John groaned and walked back into the sitting room, "Sherlock! If you say one more word I'll show everyone at the yard that picture of you and Mycroft you have under your pillow!"

Sherlock paled visibly, "You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me." John said calmly, putting on his best do-you-doubt-me face.

Huffing, Sherlock threw himself on the sofa.

"Come on, Henry, he's just sulking." John sighed shaking his head.

Henry, clothed only in a towel slung low on his hips, followed him back into the small bedroom where John was shuffling through the draws trying to find some clothes for himself and Henry.

"I hope these will do..." John said, holding out a pair of striped boxers.

"They'll do fine. Thank you." he replied sheepishly.

John smiled at him, and the pair remained in silence as they dressed.

As they walked through the living room, Sherlock lifted his gaze to them, and opened his mouth to speak.

John simply stopped and said, "Erm, Sherlock did you forget my earlier threat? Or do you _want _me to show the whole yard the picture...?"

Sherlock's mouth clamped shut, and death glared at John, who just shook his head in fond disbelief. He continued on his way to the door, an awkward looking Henry trailing behind.

"I'll give you back your boxers as soon as I get them washed..." John stated uncomfortably as they descended the stairs.

"Oh, that's fine. Thanks."

Again the pair lapsed into silence, walking down the rest of the stairs and coming to the oak door.

"So, I guess I'll see you around..." Henry said shyly, and a little disappointed as he stepped out to the front door.

"You can do better than guess! How about we go out again sometime? Friday, possibly?" John asked, gaining confidence, despite his only recent revelation about his sexuality.

"Oh! Yeah, erm Friday sounds good. Great!" the taller man beamed.

"We should go to Angelo's; I get free food there, thanks to that lanky bastard upstairs." John chuckled, "We shouldn't drink too much this time. Perhaps our night will end the same without the alcohol..."

Henry inhaled sharply; eyes widened and blushed, "I- Erm-Yeah." He stammered.

John winked to the man, "Well, I'll see you Friday then!"

Henry seemed conflicted for a moment, but finally decided to lean down and place a kiss on John's cheek. He pulled back and coughed, looking anywhere but John.

John, however, was having none of that; he reached up and pulled Henry back down into a proper kiss. Henry's eye widened adorably, and he flushed a tiny bit as John lips moved against his own.

Well that was the best goodbye he's ever had.

**I'm shit at writing kissing. Can you guess I have never had more than a peck? Review please!**


	9. Dishy

**I'm going to do the title related chapter in the next one hopefully. And thank you to my reviewers! This is dedicated to you lovely readers and reviewers. Love you all!**_  
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_1 month later_

After their first not-date, Henry and John ended up going on quite a few dates together, and quite a few more that were interrupted by Sherlock.

To be honest, Sherlock was perfectly happy for John to be off with Henry on dates as long as he was not needed on a case. He liked Henry; he was marginally intelligent and quite interesting really, considering he was haunted by an imaginary Hound all his life. So, truth be told, Sherlock didn't mind at all. Well, maybe just a little bit. They didn't only go on dates, though, which also pleased Sherlock because often it was John, Henry and Sherlock watching crap telly, having a take-away and, from time-to-time, discussing cases. All was good. Well, all was slightly less dull.

John, despite his new found sexuality being little over a month old, was embracing the relationship wholeheartedly. He could have great conversation with Henry, have laughs, help with cases sometimes, sit and watch TV with him, but with the added bonus of dates and kisses and, more recently, fantastic sex. He couldn't believe he'd never tried a relationship with a man before!

Even with Henry's traumatic past, he was a brilliant person to get along with. He was charming in a cute, shy way and had a secret romantic side John wouldn't have guessed from looking at him, although Sherlock probably did. He didn't mind one little bit if John had to leave a date because of a case, and more than once helped out on them himself.

However, so far only a handful of people knew about the relationship, not out of embarrassment, but because they didn't have many other close friends to tell. There was Harry, who probably should know, but John didn't get on with her anyway so that was a redundant idea. And then there was Mycroft who they didn't tell but who probably knew from his spying.

So when Lestrade invited John and Sherlock to Dimmock's birthday party at the yard, John thought it would be an excellent place to show off his new partner.

**John, you and Sherlock invited to Dimmock's party at the Yard. Friday at 7, can you come? GL**

_**Depends. Can I bring a 'plus one'? JW**_

**The more the merrier, or so they say. Have I met this 'plus one'? GL**

_**Thanks. And yes, you have. Previous client. You'll have to wait to see who though. JW**_

**I am a detective; I could just work it out... GL**

**Sally just asked if 'that dishy Government official' is coming. I think she means Mycroft. GL**

_**She called Mycroft dishy? ! I may invite him just to piss Sherlock off. JW**_

**Please do! I've got to go now, some stupid paperwork to do. Tell Sherlock he comes with enough paperwork to rebuild a forest. See you Friday. I'm looking forward to seeing this mysterious 'plus one'. GL**

_**FUN! I mourn for you. I'll see you around. JW**_

John smiled at his phone and called for Sherlock with a chuckle.

"Oi, Sherlock, come here you big idiot!"

Sherlock sauntered into the room and threw himself onto the sofa, "What?"

"Wow! You certainly sound excited!" John cawed sarcastically, "Greg wants us to go to Dimmock's party at the yard on Friday."

"And?"

"And you are coming."

"No."

"Yes, you are. I'm bringing Henry and you will come or I will show the whole party a certain picture with a certain brother of yours."

"...I'm going to burn that photograph someday."

"No you won't, you like it too much."

"Shut up, John." Sherlock growled.

Knowing that he had won with the perfect leverage, John went into the kitchen and made some tea for them, handing the steaming mug to Sherlock when he returned.

As Sherlock was talking a huge gulp of tea, John began again, "Speaking of Mycroft... are you aware Donovan finds him 'dishy'?"

Sherlock spat out his tea and choked violently, "WHAT!" he yelled, horrified.

**That was a filler chapter really. They'll be more fluff in the next one... I promise!**


	10. My Cheese

**Sorry I haven't updated for a while, but with Reichenbach and** **everything I didn't have time!**

**This is only a short one. Sorry guys. But it is fluffy, something I need after that episode... *tears up*  
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** I may have said there would be a reference to the title soon but unfortunately I haven't gotten to that bit yet. I plan on doing three or four chapters today to get down to the gritty fluff. Also, the text conversation in this is just so cheesy, I could smell the cheddar. **_  
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_Wednesday_

_**Hi Henry, there's a party at the yard on Friday. Do you fancy coming as my 'plus one'? JW**_

**Sure, that sounds good. Yes. 'Plus one?' X H**

_**Brilliant. What's wrong with 'plus one'? What would you prefer; boyfriend, partner, lover, honeybun? X JW**_

**Oh god, none of those! Although, lover is not too bad... x H **

_**Well maybe lover you shall be then. Unless you want to be My Henry... JW**_

**As long as you'll be my John. X H**

"John that is the most sickening thing I have ever seen in my life." Sherlock commented from behind John.

"Jesus! Don't do that, you idiot!" John started, blushing, "And no-one asked for your opinion."

Sherlock scoffed, "Yes but you always listen to it. Anyway, is he coming or not?"

"Why do you care?" John challenged.

"Because"

"That's not an answer."

"I assure you it is. It's just not the answer you wanted."

"Sherlock, stop being an idiot. Tell me."

Sherlock blushed a little, "I- he's less annoying than your past dates. I can at least tolerate him."

"Well, it's nice to know that my best friend approves." John smiled, "And he is coming."

"Good. And at least if you two go off snogging or whatever I'll have Lestrade to talk to."

John mumbled, "And Mycroft if he shows up..."

"What?" Sherlock's head snapped up, not quite catching John's words.

John smirked, "Nothing!"

And with that he pulled on his coat and left to get that milk.

**Dub a dub. Hope you liked it. **


	11. Sheet

**Oh god. This is just so awfully chirpy. There shall be jealous Henry in the future 'cause I can. Also. Just. Suddenly really cheesy fluff. **_  
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_Friday_

John had texted Mycroft on Greg's behalf, asking if he could make it the yard's party. Surprisingly, he promised to show up at some point of the evening, although John suspected that it was just to annoy Sherlock.

He was due to meet Henry at 6 at the flat, but at ten to six he was still trying to get Sherlock to get dressed.

"Sherlock, we are going to Scotland Yard, you are not going in just your bed sheet." John reprimanded.

He simply sighed petulantly, "John, I 'm a grown man. I can do what I want."

"No Sherlock, you are a child stuck in a man's body."

Sherlock only huffed.

"Christ, Sherlock get dressed now! Henry is going to be here any minute!"

John tugged Sherlock's arms and pulled him up, the strength of the soldier showing.

"But John, he's seen you naked, why should it matter if he sees me in a sheet. This is practically modest."

The doctor just spluttered in protest, continuing to tug Sherlock to his room.

"Get in your room now and get dressed, or I will show everyone that photo!"

"Ha, you can't I burnt it."

"No you didn't. You hid it in the skull."

Sherlock blinked at John and stopped resisting, causing John to pull Sherlock to hard. Sherlock was yanked backwards and the two men fell.

"SHERLOCK, get your bony arse off me!" John yelled.

"Ow, your knee is in my back!"

"What the hell-" a soft voice came from the doorway.

John looked across to see Henry in a beautifully tailored navy blue suit, looking utterly, utterly gorgeous.

"Henry!" he greeted, attempting to shove Sherlock off him, but the detective was like a dead weight.

"John, my back bloody hurts! You have insanely bony knees!" Sherlock groaned from on top of John, starting to get up.

John pushed him the rest of the way off him, and clambered to his feet, "Thanks a lot Sherlock; I think your elbows impaled my ribs." He turned to Henry, grinning, "When we aren't out chasing criminals all over London he's being a petulant prick and refusing to get dressed."

"Oh, right." Henry replied looking a little flustered and confused, "So... erm, when are we going?"

"As soon as he get's dressed." John was pushing Sherlock into his room again, but this time he actually complied, "My god, he's not resisting, it's a miracle!"

Henry let out a small giggle, to which John smiled broadly, stepping over to Henry to kiss him.

"You are utterly adorable. And my god, the only place that suit could look better would be on my bloody floor."

Flushing, Henry pecked John's lips once again and smiled, "You always look perfect."

That was the moment Sherlock chose to re-enter the room, dressed impeccably in that tight purple shirt and black trousers, "Oh god, I think a bunny just died somewhere."

**Sorry about that. Just... I don't even know. **


	12. I love you

**More fluff. And quite short again. Seriously, sorry if these are crap, I just need to write something! Reviews are always nice too...**

"Oh, erm, shall we be off then?" John asked a little embarrassed and extracting himself from Henry.

"Of course, John," Sherlock replied, but then paused, "Shall I flag a taxi while you...continue your greeting?"

John smiled, "My god, you're actually being considerate! That would be very kind of you, Sherlock. Thank you."

Sherlock smiled in reply, grabbed his coat and scarf and descended the stairs.

Henry and John looked at each other, the former looking a little hurt.

"Henry, are you alright?" John asked tentatively, stroking his arm.

"Yes- I just- why were you two on the floor?" Henry spewed out, "It's just you and Sherlock and what everyone says about you two. And then I find you on the floor with him in just a bed sheet... and I just..." Henry trailed off.

He pulled Henry down to face and paused in front of his lips, "Henry... I. Love. You" he punctuated the words with soft kisses.

Henry's eyes widened, "You... you love me?" he squeaked out.

"Yes. Of course I do." John smiled, pressing a longer kiss to his lips.

When they pulled apart, they just smiled at each other for a bit.

"Well, Sherlock will be waiting..." John began.

"I love you too." Henry shot out.

John flashed him a winning smile, and kissed him again.

**I will get to that party chapter even if it kills me. But not today. xx**


	13. Plus one

**So sorry I haven't updated in ages, but I've had science exams and stuff! I'm almost at that chapter that explains the title, although you probably don't care about that... I haven't got a Beta or anything, so sorry about spelling mistakes, but I'm going through earlier chapters at the minute to check for spelling/grammar errors.**

**A bit of a filler again, but I hope you enjoy! Reviews are love!**

After kissing for a bit more, John and Henry decided they had kept Sherlock and the taxi waiting long enough, so they grabbed each other's hand and went downstairs.

Sherlock was waiting, looking impatient, but quite happy nonetheless. The pair got into the taxi, followed closely by Sherlock, who rolled his eyes when he saw that they were still holding hands. It was a quiet journey, but comfortable and Sherlock was on his phone most of the time anyway so conversation wasn't too important.

They arrived at the yard at about ten to seven, and even though it was due to start at seven, the party seemed to be in full swing. Sherlock went straight in, all confidence and coat, while John led a nervous looking Henry by the hand.

"You ready, Henry?" John asked tentatively to his partner, whose hand was growing slightly sweaty in his palm.

"Yeah, yeah." He breathed a laugh, "So, this is basically our coming out party then?"

John laughed and pecked his cheek, "It's whatever you want it to be, love."

Henry smiled gratefully, and together they pushed the doors open to reveal the packed party. They walked over to the far corner, where they spotted Sherlock in conversation with Lestrade and Molly.

John coughed a little to get their attention, "Hello!"

Lestrade turned around and, upon spotting Henry, widened his eyes, "Hey, John! So _this _is your plus one! Hi, Henry!"

Henry smiled sheepishly and waved nervously. John turned to Molly, smiling, "Henry, this is Molly. Molly, this is Henry, my partner."

Smiling, Molly raised her glass to him in acknowledgement, "Nice to meet you."

There was a slightly awkward pause, which Lestrade broke moments later, "So, do you want to go find a table then?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes behind them, but pushed himself off the wall and sat down at the nearest unoccupied table, "If you're going to subject me to this awful party, then at least give me something interesting to talk about."

"That photo is interesting, Sherlock." A voice came from behind him, and, for once, it wasn't John threatening him with that photo.

Sherlock jumped to his feet, "Mycroft! What are you doing here?" he flashed a death-glare to John, who was sniggering into Henry's shoulder, "John, I am going to kill you!"


	14. Who let the dogs out?

**Another chapter guys! Here is where the whole idea stemmed from, and why the title is what it is. I have no idea how long I will write this for, but I'm willing to take prompts and stuff if you want me to write some specific stuff. From now on I probably won't have any proper story line; just random drabbles of Henry and John together.**

**Thank you to everyone who read, favourited, reviewed and enjoyed!*hands over virtual cookies***

John simply smiled and held up his hands in innocence, "Hey! Don't blame me; Greg wanted him to come!"

Greg blushed, but it was hard to see in the harsh lighting, "Well, Sally was the one who suggested you. I believe she called you dishy..."

Mycroft choked while Sherlock winced.

"I swear to god, if anyone ever uses the words 'Mycroft' and 'dishy' in the same sentence again, I will kill something."

"For one I actually agree with my brother there." Mycroft replied with a grimace, "_Dishy!" _he muttered incredulously.

"Well it's not untrue." Greg said quietly, Mycroft whipping his head up, the only one who heard. The was about to ask, but everyone began to sit nosily, and the moment was lost.

The table was round and covered in a deep red table cloth, probably to mask any red-wine spills that could happen. Molly and John sat themselves next to Sherlock, Henry next to John, Greg next to him, then Mycroft and back around to Molly again.

"So, John," Molly began, "How did you meet Henry then?"

John looked across to Henry and smiled, "It was on a case actually."

"Oh?" Molly questioned, looking for him to elaborate.

"It was the Hounds of Baskerville case."

"The one with that man who was drugged every time he went back to the hollow?"

"Yes," John smiled across to Henry again, "Coincidentally, he is that man."

"Oh, so you're Henry Knight then?" Molly asked blushing slightly.

"Obviously." Sherlock drawled, rolling his eyes, and John could swear that Mycroft had the exact same exasperated look on his face. Molly _really_ shouldn't have sat next to the two Holmes brothers.

John cast a look to Sherlock, who rolled his eyes again but was silenced, glaring at his brother instead.

The conversation was about to recommence, when suddenly the DJ started an obnoxiously loud and cheesy song. Lestrade looked up as soon as it began and groaned, "Oh god, who _is _this bloody DJ!"

Henry and John just caught each other's eye and laughed hard as '_Who let the dogs out?' _blared out from the speakers.


	15. Keys and surprises

**Because everything I write must have some Mystrade in somewhere. **

**Thanks you for favourites, reviews, reading it, and everything!**

Henry had been given a key to 221B a long time ago, but hadn't the need to use it until now. He had rung the doorbell several times, but to no avail, so there he stood, outside the door with chocolates in hand. John had told him that if he wasn't in that he should wait for him upstairs, but he wanted to be sure he wasn't intruding.

**I'm outside, have you gone out? X H**

_**I'm just at the shop with Sherlock, we'll be about 5 – 10 mins. You can wait inside if you want. I would tell you to have a cup of tea but there's no milk. X JW**_

**No tea? A travesty! I'll be snoozing in your chair if you need me, then. X H**

_**You better not touch my experiments. SH**_

Henry rolled his eyes.

**You know me better than that Sherlock. And give John his phone back. H**

_**Ignore whatever Sherlock said. See you soon, love you. X JW**_

**Love you too. X H**

Henry smiled as he opened the front door; no matter how many times they said 'I love you' it always made his heart flutter.

He figured Mrs Hudson must be asleep if she didn't answer the door, so he crept upstairs as not to wake her. Sherlock and John never seemed to lock their front door, so he was not surprised to see it open.

He was, however, very surprised at what he saw when he stepped inside.

Greg Lestrade had caged one Mycroft Holmes against the wall of the flat, and was assaulting his mouth feverishly, one hand up his shirt and the other – oh god – the other down his pants. Both seemed too engrossed to notice Henry until he made some sort of squeaking noise and dropped the chocolates and his phone, momentarily frozen to the spot.

"Oh my god, I'm _so_ sorry!" he yelped.

Mycroft and Lestrade blushed furiously, both trying to gather words to explain while sorting out their dishevelled clothing, but Henry had already bolted down the stairs.

He wrenched open the front door, running out half way into the street before he banged straight into John and almost knocking him over.

"Oof, Henry!" John laughed, "I didn't know you were this eager to see me!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes from beside them.

"I- I cannot unsee what I just saw," Henry puffed out, "Oh god, I need some air."

"Well you are outside..." Sherlock said is his 'are-you-an-idiot-oh-wait-yes-you-are' voice.

Henry scowled through his blush, "I think I'd rather see a dead body in the living room than _that_."

"What happened?" John asked concernedly.

"I walked into your flat and Mycroft-" Henry began.

"Oh god, the sight of Mycroft would send me running to the hills in horror too." Sherlock interrupted.

"No, no, that's not all... it was what he was doing that was the...surprising ...bit."

"Do I really want to know this?" John asked.

"I'm afraid you will, if you ever plan on looking at your wall again."

"Oh lord," John groaned.

"Well, I came in to see Mycroft against the wall, being thoroughly and completely snogged by-"

He was stopped by Sherlock's disgusted splutter - "Who would snog _Mycroft"-_ and the sight of Greg and Mycroft hurrying out of 221b, flushing, and into the black car waiting.

"_Lestrade_?" John exclaimed, "He was snogging Greg!"

Sherlock had gone quiet and paled.

"There may or may not have been hands in places." Henry said, blushing lightly.

"John, we are burning the wall." Sherlock hissed out.


End file.
